


The key to your lips

by HogwartsToAlexandria



Series: Marie's Ironstrange Shorts 2020 [2]
Category: Doctor Strange (2016), Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: BAMF Tony Stark, Blow Jobs, Come Swallowing, Deepthroating, Dirty Talk, Face-Fucking, Facials, Getting Together, Horny Stephen Strange, Iron Man Suit Kink, M/M, Post-Battle, Resolved Sexual Tension, Shower Sex, Stephen Strange knows what he wants, Villain of the Week
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-07
Updated: 2020-04-07
Packaged: 2021-03-01 17:20:18
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,795
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23530717
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HogwartsToAlexandria/pseuds/HogwartsToAlexandria
Summary: Horny. Stephen feels horny and it's annoying in that it takes away from his concentration. Not enough so that he can't take the bots that are flown at him trying to end him, but surely enough, the hit he just took to the shoulder might have been a miss if Tony fucking Stark hadn't been flying through the air in the suit just a minute ago, killing off bot after bot only to land right next to him and slide the faceplate up at the same time as he drew his arms in front of him."Need help, wizard?"Ironstrange Bingo 2020 Fill, I2: PWPTony Stark Bingo Round 3 Fill, K4: Kink: Armor Kink - (card 3026)
Relationships: Tony Stark/Stephen Strange
Series: Marie's Ironstrange Shorts 2020 [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1665676
Comments: 11
Kudos: 160
Collections: IronStrange Bingo 2020, Tony Stark Bingo 2020





	The key to your lips

**Author's Note:**

  * For [celestial-ringleader](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=celestial-ringleader).



Horny. Stephen feels horny and it's annoying in that it takes away from his concentration. Not enough so that he can't take the bots that are flown at him trying to end him, but surely enough, the hit he just took to the shoulder might have been a miss if Tony fucking Stark hadn't been flying through the air in the suit just a minute ago, killing off bot after bot only to land right next to him and slide the faceplate up at the same time as he drew his arms in front of him. 

"Need help, wizard?" 

It was so casual, so very essentially powerful, and Stark looked like he was barely having fun, just doing what needed to be done, easy as a walk in the park, still trying to chat with Stephen through the sheer blasts of his gauntlets, and the cracking of the bots' claws. 

"That won't be necessary," Stephen managed to answer him in as cold a voice as possible, but it's not true. He needs help. He needs all the help he can get from the man that's making him harder than he's been since his accident and doesn't even know it. 

The villain of the week is long and far gone by the time Stephen can chase away his magic, and catch a breath, but there is no way in hell he can make the boner that tents his pants disappear. And so he doesn't. He doesn't know what he's thinking, doesn't truly know what he's doing when he walks up to Stark and doesn't hear himself ask either. 

"Would you take me to your tower?" 

Stark watches him, surprise and confusion drawing his eyebrows together. Stephen can't be bothered to hide the way his thoughts are distorting his features - he hasn't wanted anyone so bad in too long. 

"I mean, not like I'll be sad to miss the debrief," Stark smiles at him, his eyes still squinted in a question Stephen won't answer. "Hop on, Dumbledore." 

And even that, the annoying nickname and derision Stark shows about his position, Stephen lets it slide. He brings his arms around the waist of the suit, and it's all he can do not to moan on the spot. Stark winds one of the suit's arms around _his_ waist, and Stephen has to cough to cover the whimper that leaves him. 

This is so wrong. 

He doesn't care. 

They get to the tower in no time at all, certainly not enough time for Stephen to regain his senses. They come in through the deck of the penthouse, right into Stark's apartment Stephen notices. The voice of Stark's A.I. makes him startle, and even the way Stark chuckles at his reaction is arousing somehow. 

The man exudes power, and watching the way his mechanisms rid him of each part of the suit with every step he takes once Stephen hops off is a show of his prowess in engineering and… and Stephen isn't embarrassed just yet - he certainly will be later - but he gasps just watching the process enfold, his eyes flickering between every possible part of the other man's body as it's revealed, the undersuit he wears just outlining every muscle group like a second skin and making Stephen's mouth water. 

He doesn't pause to question himself, doesn't think further than the need that's the sole reason his hands shake for once. 

Stephen follows Stark inside the penthouse, walks step for step behind him until Stark turns around, not expecting him so close if the way his eyes widen for a split second is any clue, and then he's going down, to his knees, on the floor, at Stark's feet. The sweaty, messy, exhausted look on Stark's face is just one more way Stephen feels slighted by his pride, muted and shut off as he opens his mouth, silently, but very evidently asking for what will make his brain pause completely, what will steady his hands and heartbeat and bring him a satisfaction he hasn't seen the light of for years and years, and all because Tony Stark cannot stop being devastatingly sexy ever. 

"What the fuck, Strange?" Stark takes a step back, but then it seems Stephen's exact situation registers through his thoughts… it's quite fascinating how transparent the man can be when he wants to, or doesn't have enough brain power left to shield himself. 

His eyes widen some more. They flicker from Stephen's face, his eyes, his lips, then his neck, down quick to his lap but it's hidden by the heap of his robes - how hard he is behind all his layers of clothing - and back again. A question in his eyes that Stephen finds quite annoying in the daze of his need. 

He makes a sound at the back of his throat that makes Stephen lick his lips and his breathing pattern hitch some more. And then he walks the step he'd taken back again, standing with his toes brushing Stephen's knees and bringing his clothed crotch at eye-level with Stephen. He's starting to show interest, the snug fabric getting even tighter and Stephen stops looking into his eyes to properly stare at what he's gagging for. The outline of Stark's cock is steadily filling right before his eyes, and when it seems the man really is that slow right now, Stephen leans forward and presses his open mouth to it. 

He slides his lips up and down the shaft he could only picture not ten minutes ago, and when Stark's hips buck and the man curses, his hands seemingly reflexively coming to flex in Stephen's hair, Stephen draws his tongue out, cushioning his lower teeth and dragging it all the way up Stark's cock like he's lapping at a popsicle. Stephen moans, the fabric doesn't taste like anything, barely even tastes like the sweat the man's bound to be leaking under his thick undersuit, but Stephen can imagine what Stark’s cock will taste like, and it sure has never been closer. 

He looks up again to find Stark staring at his face, his hands starting to move in Stephen's hair, grazing gentle circles of his nails to his scalp. Stephen shakes his head at him. He pulls away just enough to lift his chin and stare directly into Stark's eyes. 

"I want you…" Stephen's lips tick upward before he corrects himself, that's not accurate enough, "I need you, to fuck my throat. Use my mouth, push your cock inside, and use me." 

The words leave his mouth and he isn't ashamed of a single one of them, he's too horny, his own cock is too hard against the fabric of his undergarments, his brain too fuzzy from the ages that have passed since he last felt this way. Stark looks stunned, his lips parting open on the spot so his gasp can escape, his cheeks reddening and not from exertion this time. Fuck, but he looks good. 

Stephen starts pressing the heel of his palm to his own cock as he waits, hissing a bit at the way it forces his shoulder to move and the not-so-nice way the tendons of his hand pull and protest. The relief it brings him is worth it though. He feels his face slacking under the assault of sensation, however faint, and he keeps his eyes trained on Stark's face as he pleasures himself right at his feet. 

Then, slowly, Stark takes his hands away from Stephen's hair and twists to unzip the side of his undersuit. In no time, the man stands naked as he towers over Stephen and somehow, he looks even more powerful like this, bare and aroused, his cock a deep red that shines at the tip and demands Stephen's mouth. The sorcerer gasps as it's revealed, all his power going into not impaling his face on it right away so he can look at it some more. 

"You want this?" Stark asks, and his voice doesn't have the lewd notes this question could lead to. He sounds concerned - turned on beyond measure, but still cautious. Stephen raises an eyebrow at him - a pale imitation of his usual sarcastic comebacks, he can't gather enough wits for that. 

So Stephen sticks his tongue out again, his jaw unlocking wide and wet for Stark's cock, showing him again, how much he needs it. Stephen's hand never stops stroking against himself through his clothes. Finally, something seems to happen in Stark's eyes, the final threads of hesitation flooding over with heat, vanishing under flames of arousal, darkness and passion and need overcoming his gentlemanly dispositions. Thank fuck. 

Stark's hands brush over Stephen's cheeks on their way back into his hair, gentle before one of them closes into it and fists at the back of his neck while the other one goes to stroke his cock right against Stephen's lips. The first touch of the velvety head to his mouth makes Stephen whimper. He wants it, he wants it so bad. Stark smirks down at him as he first spreads the precome that's gathered in his slit over Stephen's upper lip. 

"Little lipstick for you," he whispers, and it sounds so dirty Stephen's eyes roll back and his hips give an involuntary jerk. He needs to taste it, needs to feel Stark's come thick and salty on his tongue. And so he flicks his tongue, first over his lip, and then forward to prod at the wet slit of Stark's cock, his lashes fluttering as the flavor explodes on his taste buds. 

Stephen hasn't given head in probably ten years and now he remembers just how much he craves it. And Stark tastes so good, and sounds so good as Stephen keeps tonguing at the head of his cock, stretching his drenched tongue out as far as it will go with Stark's hand in his hair blocking his head in place. 

He grins around the taste, and batts his lashes to look up into Stark's eyes again. That's when Stark finally snaps, the moment their gazes lock together again and he makes another wounded, choked noise. Then he's pushing the head of his cock into Stephen's mouth and Stephen closes his lips around it, sucking like it's the tit of a bottle and there's milk to be found there, because there is, and he needs it more than he needs breath. 

Stephen hollows his cheeks more and more as Stark pushes his cock further down his mouth, and until he bumps into Stephen's throat. He tries to draw back when Stephen gags around it, but Stephen's hands shoot up and splay over his asscheeks, strong as he keeps Stark there, bottomed out down his throat, ecstasy-inducing dick making his muscles spasm and his eyes see stars. 

Stephen's hips cant into nothing, chasing a friction his robes won't give and his hands are too busy to provide. He keeps sucking around Stark's shaft, his tongue dancing along the underside, pressing against the large veins he can feel all along the hard dick in his mouths and he moans. His eyes are starting to water from his barely subsiding gagging and the lack of oxygen, and only then does Stephen let his hands fall down, just a weak squeeze of his hands to Stark's - deliciously firm - ass before he lets go and lets him set his pace. 

A pace that happens to be exactly what Stephen wants and needs. It's harsh, it's unforgiving, it's powerful. Perfection in the form of thrusts that drive all the way down Stephen’s mouth and hit and hit and hit his throat and pulls that keep Stephen mouthing and sucking at only the head with all he has, hands in his hair setting a rhythm that keeps him on his toes even as his knees scream at the hardness of the hardwood floor. 

It's madness and it's heaven. 

Stark grunts above him. Stephen can barely see him through the tears in his eyes now. An aquarelle of Tony Stark fucking his throat with all the desperation and strength he's got. Beautiful. 

Stephen starts to think he may come from this, but his brain isn't there enough that he can actually ponder it for real. He just feels. His every nerve-ending alight with a fire he'd thought extinct, his every neuron geared towards making this the best blowjob Stark will ever receive and the memory Stephen will take to bed with him for months if not years to come. A spank bank made entirely of the sight and feel and taste and smell of Stark's manhood, of the way he handles Stephen's head and pushes it every way he likes, of the way he sounds when Stephen manages to suck his dick the way he wants it sucked. 

Time has no meaning anymore, all Stephen knows is he's floating both over and inside his body and head with pleasure and painful arousal by the time Stark's rhythm falters and cranks up another notch, his hips and his hands even his cock twitching into an erratic pace and trajectory. He ficks and he fucks and Stephen takes it, groans and moans like a whore as Stark hammers away at his throat, like he's searching an harbor to which he could hook his dick and let it live there. 

His thighs flex under Stephen's palms when Stephen searches for purchase and lets his hands find it on Stark's strong legs. It's another proof of his power, another way Stark cuts his air supplies short and Stephen as never felt so out of his mind. 

He needs Stark to come now, and not because he's growing tired, he could keep doing this again and again, but he needs to taste him for real now. He needs to feel the way his thick come will coat his tongue completely, filling his mouth and throat with a taste so strong it will fill his nostrils at the same time and Stephen will keep it with him all day, his mouth and nose soaked in Stark's seed. He wants it so badly it hurts and Stephen whimpers again, sure his sounds carry over to Stark's dick and he tries to lock their eyes together again, pleading him to let go and give him his come now, please, please, he needs it so badly. 

Stark curses. His hands tug harder at Stephen's hair, his hips go faster as he fucks even more harshly into Stephen's mouth, forgetting even the sliver of regard he'd kept for the man's jaw, and losing it. 

"I'm giving you what you want," he pants, head down, staring at Stephen's face with the wide eyes of a man barely hanging on, "Gonna come all over your pretty tongue. Gonna paint your lips too. Oh, _fuck_." Stark chokes his stomach rippling with the strength of his climax hitting him square in the chest and bursting out of him to explode right where he said it would. Come floods Stephen's mouth, Stark still fucking his dick inside through the waves of his orgasm, pushing his come farther down, drenching the drenched and pulling out just in time for the last spurts of his come to land across Stephen's red lips. 

His jaw feels like it's run a marathon, his lips like they're stretched an inch looser than they were before all this, and Stephen moans at the way air flows right back down his throat, the rush of oxygen mixing with the liquid evidence of Stark's bliss and making his own hips shake for release. 

Stark's eyes watch him like a hawk, albeit a hawk with really glassy eyes, and he notices the way Stephen pants for air and chases his own pleasure because he puts his hands back into the man's hair and whispers. 

"You're going to come shower with me now." He isn't asking, he's directing, and Stephen finds he really likes that, too. 

Getting to his feet once it's clear to Stark that he's on board with that is another business entirely. Stephen feels himself shaking, his knees are weak and his brow sweaty with both hot and cold sweat. His cock is tenting the front of his robes and now that he's spent the last however long jerking and bobbing back and forth on Stark's cock, said robes don't quite fall the way they did before, his arousal is painfully visible but Stark is grinning at him once he notices it, so Stephen figures that's ok. 

Shame is slowly trying to pierce the foggy barrier of his need but not enough so that Stephen doesn't nearly swallow his tongue when Stark goes into the bathroom ahead of him and therefore gives him the first and best view of a man's ass Stephen’s ever been in the presence of. Fuck but he could bite into that. 

Stark looks at him over his shoulder once he's checked the water of his large shower and grins again when he finds him staring. He clicks his tongue to get Stephen's attention. 

"Another time," he says, and the implications there don't quite register in Stephen's brain. 

Stark walks to him again, reaching a hand up to touch Stephen's cheek gently, a rather infinite contrast to the way he used his face just a few minutes ago. Stephen's eyelids flutter at the tenderness of it, not quite sure what to make of it but enjoying it nonetheless. 

"You'll be sore when you cool down," Stark whispers as he keeps caressing Stephen's face. 

Stephen shrugs. 

"Is there a way you can get rid of your clothes easily, wizard?" Stark asks again. 

"Told you not to call me that, Stark," Stephen slurs. 

"Oh I think _Tony_ will do now that you've had my cock down your throat, don't you agree?" Stark, _Tony_ , says. 

Stephen feels his lips turn in a smile at that, but he only nods, his voice fucked beyond measure and his brain telling him not to trust it.

"So is there?" Stark reminds him of his previous question. 

Stephen shrugs again. 

He hums. "There is but," Stephen waves at himself. 

"Not in the right state to make it happen, got it." Tony smiles at him, and then Stephen lets himself be moved one way then the other, as the man starts to undress him properly. 

It takes longer than if Stephen had done it himself, even without magic, but Stephen can't remember the last time someone's done that for him in such a context so he lets it happen, enjoys it while it lasts. 

When his clothes are pooling at his feet, belts and robes and under robes and underwear all a mass of fabric and his body as naked as it will ever get, Tony forces eye contact with a hand at Stephen's chin. He's smiling in that way Stephen’s noticed makes his eyes crinkle in the corners, illuminating his whole face with the stars that shine in his eyes… Stephen feels loopy. 

And then Tony puts his hand around Stephen's cock without warning, and his sweet smile turns into a hungry grin. 

"Your turn." 

Stephen groans at both the touch and the promise and lets himself be led into the rectangle of the shower, surprised to see a stool affixed to the wall under the spray. 

"Sit." Tony says, and only lets go of his cock when Stephen twists to execute the soft-spoken order. 

The stool is warm and wet and the spray is the perfect temperature for their battle-beaten bodies, and all Stephen can feel is the heat of Tony's gaze and that of his own cock demanding attention now that the man's touched it. 

Tony doesn't make him wait. He gets down on his knees and parts Stephen’s legs with a hand on each of his thighs, scooting closer until his lips are an inch away from Stephen's cock. 

"I got you now," Tony murmurs. 

Stephen's hips immediately buck under Tony's ministrations, the wet, searing-hot softness of his mouth engulfing his dick better and more gently than Stephen's ever been sucked before and it's more than he can handle. He can't sit still, he fucks up Tony's mouth but his rhythm isn't there, the muscles of his thighs and ass screaming at him with the same force his loins burn for release. But Tony said it, he's got him now, and he blocks Stephen's hips with an arm pressing his pelvis down at the same time as he brings his mouth down down down until his lips are wrapped around the base of Stephen's cock, and that's when Stephen feels wet and calloused fingers graze his balls and he cries in pleasure. 

The rush of sensation doesn't stop. Tony bobs his head up and down, and faster and faster, he sweeps his thumb and forefinger all over his sack, and under his balls over the flat expanse of Stephen's perineum until the pads of his fingers catch on Stephen's rim. It's ecstasy. And Stephen can't last long, not after he got to suck Tony's cock for long and long minutes that teased him closer to insanity with every thrust of the man's dick down his throat, thrusts he can still feel the phantom sensations of at his jaw. 

Stephen throws his head back for a moment, only to look right into Tony's eyes again the next. His lips part to warn him, his fingers sliding over the arm Tony's got draped over his hips, but no sound comes out of his mouth. His hips stutter and his dick almost hurts as he comes. He comes longer and harder than he's ever come, he comes thick and loud in Tony's mouth and it's Tony who pulls off before he's done so the last of his come splatters across his mouth and cheeks like his own release painted Stephen's lips. 

"Fuck," Stephen gasps. 

"Fuck, indeed," Tony laughs. 

He doesn't get up right away, but when he does, Tony keeps their eyes locked together and forces Stephen to stay put on the stool as he washes him gently. The gazes they share are words in themselves, promises Stephen didn't know they were dancing around in anything other than his imagination. 

"We should do this again sometime," Tony says when he's drying Stephen's body by the mirrors of his large bathroom, and somehow, Stephen knows he means a lot more than just trade a couple of blowjobs after battles. 

Stephen doesn't go back to the Sanctum that night. It's nice and warm at Tony's, and his arms feel good around him as they fall asleep, exhausted, but warm for the presence of someone else, that someone else being the one man they've both been fantasizing about for months on end without daring to make a move. 

Sometimes subtle isn't the key. 

  
  



End file.
